Dead among the living
by MauRauDer
Summary: Daryl finds a young woman in the woods...what else did you expect. She's been through hell and back and not even sure she wants shelter with the Survivors. Trigger warning: Violence, sexual violence, gore, mental illness, marry sue-ness, language and eventual fluff in the future. Starts during 2nd season. Potential DarylxOC further down the line, duh. :D features "the living"
1. Iron

**Authors' note:  
First and foremost: I do not own The Walking Dead, any of its characters or locations. I only own my generic OC :D And I do not own any of the lyrics at the beginning of the chapters.  
**

 **Before you read on, I'd like to mention a few things:  
I'm not a native speaker or resident of the US. I tried my best to spell check and use proper grammar and tried to research everything I mention in this story thoroughly.  
This is an OC-centric story, so I will not rewrite the original script, I'll try to stick with canon and lampshade events that are important but too redundant to write out again. I'm using my OC to fill some plot holes I noticed when I re-watched TWD and to ... well ... fantasize :D  
I've split the chapters in days/episodes up until now, but for the sake of length I'll try to re-split them for uploading.  
**

 _ **Trigger warning: Violence, sexual violence, gore, mental illness, marry sue-ness and eventual fluff in the future.**_

 **Enjoy!**

 **Iron**

 _Deep in the ocean, dead and cast away_  
 _Where innocence is burned in flames_  
 _A million mile from home, I'm walking ahead_  
 _I'm frozen to the bones, I am..._

 _A soldier on my own, I don't know the way_  
 _I'm riding up the heights of shame_  
 _I'm waiting for the call, the hand on the chest_  
 _I'm ready for the fight and fate  
_

Green, green, the only thing she saw was a green blur as she ran as fast as she could. At least green was better than red. It was pure luck she didn't run into a tree or stumble over branches or roots. It was all a blur, made out of panic, sweat and tears. She didn't bother to look back, unable to see and unable to hear over her pounding heart. If they caught her again it wouldn't matter anyway. She didn't even know for how long she had been running, she couldn't feel her legs or anything rather.  
Pictures of the men flashed back into her mind. The laughter, the pain, the humiliation. She'd rather be eaten alive then go back there.  
Eventually she tripped over something soft, sending her flying and land on her face roughly. For a moment she stayed laying there frozen, not even daring to breathe. She still couldn't hear much over her heartbeat until a groan sounded from behind her. Slowly she turned her head, shaking.  
She had fallen over a man, who was bringing his hand up to his head. After rubbing his forehead his eyes turned to her widening. They both jumped up, he holding up a crossbow with one arrow left and her just crouching low holding the small knife she had stolen in front of her face. It was still hard to focus but she tried to take in as many details about him to come up with a plan. He seemed exhausted and injured. There was blood covering his face and arms and he favored his left leg. A string with ears on it was hanging from his neck and a doll from his belt next to a hunting knife. His eyes looked wild and the crossbow rattled quietly from his shivering hands. His clothes were dirty and bloody from a wound on his left side. Maybe she could take him, maybe she could've if she hadn't run for however long.  
"Who r you." He eventually barked squinting.  
She couldn't answer, what if he was one of them and she just happened to not have seen him before.  
"Who you running from?" He barked again taking a step closer to intimidate her.  
How did he know? Why wasn't he just shooting her?  
Noticing the confusion in her eyes he continued. "No use lyin'."  
"I..." she managed before both heard rustling somewhere not so far behind them. With a whimper she straightened and took a few steps back. "No...nononononononono." she stammered slipping the knife back through her belt and started to turn. The man quickly moved and grabbed her arm.  
"Where ya think yer goin'?"  
"Leggo! I won't go back! They're coming!" she almost squeaked in panic trying to break free.  
"Who's coming?" he jerked her back roughly.  
Before she even had a chance to respond, they heard a whistle. He pulled her down, crouching low and scanning the trees around.  
"Who's that?" He rasped tugging on her arm. She only whimpered trying to pry his hand from her.  
"We know you're here blondie! Come out and we'll bring you back home." A male voice sang through the woods and a burst of laughter could be heard.  
"How many?" the man with the crossbow urged still holding her as she was trying to scramble away.  
"Please..." she sobbed. "Lemmego."  
"Are they dangerous?"  
She nodded trying harder to get away. Suddenly she went still, eyes wide.  
He turned his head to see two men approaching. They were still looking around with their guns low, so chances were high they hadn't seen the pair yet.  
With one look the hunter knew no matter what, he wouldn't be able to negotiate with those men and it wouldn't sit right with him to leave her there. Something awful must have happened to her judging from the state she was in. He thought for a second and turned back to the young woman.  
"You stay here. Don't run, whatever happens." he whispered. She didn't even blink, her eyes trained on the two strangers. With a grunt he stalked away as quietly as possible, not leaving the gunmen out of his sight.  
It didn't even take a minute for them to reach her.  
"There you are, buttercup." one of them sneered.  
"God look at her face, Bummer...need some paper bags for later." the other laughed. "Must've fallen on her pretty head while running."  
"S'long as the rest is still intact..." he snorted and crouched down and tugged on her shirt.  
She was still frozen in place, tears silently running down her cheeks. She didn't even flinch as the man with the crossbow came up from behind, burying his knife into the back of the standing gunman. The other turned around on his heels to see what was happening and jumped up on his feet as he saw his partner sink to the ground. The hunter was just quick enough to retrieve his knife, to grab the gun with his free hand and avoid the bullet meant for his head.  
They struggled for a moment. Blinking away the shock and realizing what was happening the blonde got up. Was she actually saved? Feeling the anger for the men bubbling up in her stomach she grabbed the knife from her belt, waited for the right moment and slammed the short blade into the back of the gunman's neck. She led go of the handle as he sank down dead. The hunter plunged his knife into the other's skull and picked up the handgun and the rifle.  
The young woman was violently throwing up, pressing one hand to her chest and the other to her stomach. He glanced up at her. Killing a man made her sick, so she wouldn't be much of a threat; he thought while searching the corpses for loot.  
"You alright?" he asked as he came up next to her. She just shook her head no.  
"Tell me who those guys were?" he rubbed the back of his hand over his nose to wipe off some fresh blood.  
"Group." she managed between pants.  
"Far from 'ere?"  
She shrugged. "Been running. Lost track." she wiped her mouth.  
He shifted his stance rubbing his hand over his face.  
"What's yer name?" he eventually asked.  
Slowly she straightened up, looking at him. He was half turned away from her, narrow blue eyes studying her back, his hands hung to his sides. Not much of a threat, for now.  
"Yara." she answered wringing her hands uncomfortably.  
"Daryl." he replied with a nod. "Mind telling me what this was about?"  
She gave him a sideways frown, distrust clear in her eyes.  
"How'd you know I ran?" she asked instead of answering.  
"Obvious. Stompin' through the woods and stickin' out like a pink horse. No one with a straight head on their shoulders would risk that these times..." He scoffed.  
She looked down on herself. He was right, the black pants, boots and teal shirt contrasted heavily with her pale skin and the bright print of a rainbow puking unicorn on her chest made matters worse. And it didn't conceal her in the green and brown woods at all.  
"Thanks...for saving me..." she mumbled.  
"Didn't have much of a choice." Daryl said starting to move past her. He still pondered on what to do with her. Was she safe to take back to the others? He couldn't decide but he also couldn't leave her there, with her tiny knife and that neon sign of a shirt.  
Yara was standing still, looking at her hands that were covered with dirt and splatters of blood. She felt her legs burn like hell now that the threat was dealt with and the question of what to do now hammered with the headache that was growing. She didn't plan ahead, everything happened so quickly. How was she going to survive in the woods? How was she going to stay alive? Her head spun widely and at first she didn't notice the words directed at her.  
"Ey!" he barked. "I said, you coming or what?"  
Her eyes shot up.  
"What?" she mumbled.  
"There's a farm, people, food. We have a doc s well..." he said reluctantly. He still didn't know if this was a good idea but he rarely misjudged a person and if he did this time, they could take care of it later. She frowned, going over her options. Trying alone would probably kill her come nightfall, but trusting a stranger, a man, felt like she would be dragged back. Still nothing could be worse than the last two months. So she moved towards the hunter, wringing her hands anxiously.

Daryl grunted in dismay. "Yer too loud." he said after a good half an hour of walking.  
She shot him a glare.  
"Ya need to roll your feet, front to back and shift yer weight right."  
He stopped holding his arm out in front of her. It looked a bit silly as he slowly tipped the outside of the ball of his foot down, rolling on his heel and shifting his weight forward.  
"Like tha'."  
Yara looked at him with suspicion but mimicked his movement.  
"Yea. Bend yer knees a lil'."  
"Why you teaching me?" she asked with a raised brow.  
"Can't risk you attracting walkers, stomping around...bad enough we need to move slow..."  
"Why not leave me then?"  
Daryl's mouth formed into a thin line, he squinted at her and he considered to do just that, again. Eventually he looked forward and started to move again.  
"Dun feel right..." he murmured.  
She followed him, remembering halfway to try this new method of walking. It made her legs burn even more than before, but she noticed the different sound.

Now that Yara got used to 'walking more quietly' the silence was almost deafening. They had been walking for another hour before she almost jumped out of her skin when Daryl spoke up.  
"Yer ever even been in the woods before?" He gave her a sideways look.  
"No, not like this at least." she answered tiptoeing over a fallen branch. "Before...of course, for hiking or camping...just a few times though."  
"Big city girl huh." he scoffed.  
She nodded "Yea. Boston. Was on a trip to Philadelphia when it all went down..."  
For a moment she pondered if she should go on. She didn't know if she could trust the hunter, but she already decided to follow him, so why not explain.  
"I was with a group at first. Good people. We'd stay on the outskirts of Philadelphia for a while, scavenging what we could, sharing what we had." She swallowed hard. "One day, we had to move. A herd was about to hit our camp and we had next to no weapons on hand and only one man who knew how to shoot. On the road we encountered another group. They seemed friendly, but something was off." She had to stop for a moment feeling the memories rush back like a rock hitting her in the stomach.  
"Ya don't have tah..." Daryl said looking at her. He had a bad feeling about her story and he regretted asking about it earlier.  
"They killed all the men..." she said quietly and continued to walk. "Old folks too. Women and girls were brought back to a small shopping center. They held us...in the temporary detention cell...six of us..." she rubbed her hands over her face and took a deep breath.  
Daryl's chest clenched painfully. She didn't say it but he had some ideas of why they were held there and it made him angry and glad they had killed the men earlier.  
"So after two months, they decided to move on after most supplies ran out...We had been on the road for a few days and last night I had a chance to slip out. Been running since then."  
He hummed, not knowing what to respond. Guilt stirred in his stomach. He and Merle were about to rob the camp as well and knowing his brother's temperament he wouldn't put it past him to dirty his hands on Andrea or Lori. If the older hadn't been left for dead on that roof, Daryl might have become a man who he now wanted to beat bloody.  
"Apocalypse brings the worst out in people..." he said.  
Yara hummed quietly as they continued on.

Both were hobbling at minimum speed after two more hours of walking. Daryl was looking ghostly pale and his breathes came out ragged. Yara's shape was even worse. Something on her back was bleeding through her shirt, her right leg was cramping uncontrollably and she could only drag it behind. She was close to passing out when they broke out of the forest and reached the fields.  
in the distance she heard some commotion, but only realized what it was when a chrome gun was pointed at Daryl.  
"That's the third time you pointed that thing at my head. You gonna pull the trigger or what?" the hunter eventually called daringly. That's when Yara felt her legs give in and she collapsed into the tall grass. Barrels whipped in her direction.  
"'s fine, she's with me." Daryl slurred. "Get her inside will ya." He said before a shot sounded and he was whirled around and landed in the grass next to the blonde.


	2. Schism

**Authors' note:  
**  
 ** **I do not own The Walking Dead, any of its characters or locations. I only own my generic OC :D And I do not own any of the lyrics at the beginning of the chapters.****

 _ **Trigger warning: Violence, sexual violence, gore, mental illness, marry sue-ness, language and eventual fluff in the future.**_

 **Schism**

 _There was a time that the pieces fit, but I watched them fall away  
Mildewed and smoldering, strangled by our coveting  
I've done the math enough to know the dangers of our second guessing  
Doomed to crumble unless we grow, and strengthen our communication_

Her eyes fluttered open. "Motherfucker!" she heard a familiar voice nearby. She was laying on her stomach, her back was cold and aching. Her feed were numb and her vision blurry.  
"shit! Fucking...gnarf" she remembered, the hunter, Daryl was his name. She felt something tug on the skin beneath her shoulder blade. Everything was pain. She blinked and groaned silently.  
"Stop your cursin' boy, you woke her." A gruff shaky voice berated.  
Yara tried to look up. She saw a bellybutton, surrounded by scars. The abs were twitching accompanied by grunts and hisses. Her eyes moved up to see Daryl squint, face screwed up in pain. A blonde girl was padding the wound on his waist with a brownish cotton ball.  
A body moved between them, a slender warm hand was placed on Yara's shoulder and a female voice spoke in southern accent.  
"Don't move. 's alright." A face came into view. A young woman with chin length brown hair and vibrant green eyes. "I'm Maggie. You're save." she said gently moving her hand.  
"Was she bit?" Yara heard a male voice from somewhere in the room.  
"She wasn't. Looks like something far worse happened to her." the shaky gruff voice answered. "Need to fully examine her though after that nasty cut is stitched up."  
"What were you thinking bringing a stranger here?" the male voice spat angrily.  
"Was I supposed to leave'er there? Like tha'?" Daryl shot back.  
Yara heard a door slam shut.  
"Asshole." The hunter grunted.  
"That Shane...I'm worried about him." the gruff voice said.  
The vibrant green eyes the blonde was focusing on shifted to the side. Silence filled the room for a moment.  
"Beth, bring Daryl to the spare when you're done cleaning that." Maggie said turning to the blonde girl, who nodded in return.  
"We'll have to search you for bite marks." she turned back to Yara. "Do you remember being bit?"  
Yara shook her head no as best as she could. She heard Daryl grunt and his shuffling footsteps on the wooden floor. Maggie turned her head to wait for the door to close again.  
Two pairs of hands rolled the blonde on her back. There was an old man, with back combed thin white hair. The gruff shaky voice she assumed.  
She was in a room, old fashioned. There was no one around except Maggie and the old man.  
"You think you can manage to sit up?" he said placing his hand on her other shoulder.  
She didn't know. Her head was cloudy and the only thing she felt was a never ending hum of pain.  
The two strangers pushed her from the soft mattress in a sitting position.  
"We need to remove her clothing." The man said with a frown.  
Maggie nodded, starting to pull up Yara's shirt.  
"No." She managed and weakly wrapped her arms around herself.  
"We need to examine you. Nothing is gonna happen to you." the brunette came into view. "My dad is a doctor."  
Yara shook her head no, tears starting to roll down her cheeks.  
"I'm gonna get Patricia." The man said.  
The blonde was relieved when it was only her and the other woman. Quiet sobs emerged from her as she curled forward.  
"What in god's name happened to you?" Maggie breathed, smoothing her hand over the other's back.

Daryl was slowly making his way to the bathroom as he saw the silver haired woman from his group standing in the hallway.  
"What's goin' on?" he rasped as he hobbled towards her.  
"When the two of you came across the field, I thought it was Sophia for a moment..." the older woman spoke quietly bringing her hand up to her mouth. Carol was looking through the small gap of the door to the room he had been treated in earlier.  
Yara was sitting up in the bed, talking to someone.  
"Yea...that damn shirt." He mumbled.  
The blonde was explaining how Daryl had found her, the gunmen and their way to the farm.  
Their leader was coming around the bed and took a seat.  
"This group. What did they do to you." he asked.  
Daryl and Carol could hear Maggie from somewhere in the room.  
"Please Rick...don't..."  
He looked up. "We need to know. What if they come here?"  
"The evidence on her body is enough to know how dangerous they are." They heard Hershel say.  
"Daryl said you've been kept with others, girls." Rick choose to ignore the pleads from the others.  
Carol gasped and moved to the door, opening it fully.  
"Was there a little girl? 12, Blue shirt with a rainbow, short brown hair?"  
Yara looked at the newcomer frowning. She shook her head no.  
"The youngest was 14." She finally said. "Red curly hair and freckles. I didn't see all of the group though...just..." she stopped looking at her hands in her lap.  
"How many were there?" Rick pressed.  
"'s enough." Daryl came in behind Carol. "I've seen the fuckers. We know all we need to fer now."  
"at least 10...12... I guess. I'm sure they moved on." Yara almost whispered. "They don't stay in one place for long."  
Rick rubbed his hands over his face. "Thank you. For telling."  
"Least I could do." the blonde murmured. She eyed the former Sheriff with distrust. Those who she had seen, seemed friendly enough. Still the desperation he showed made her wary, desperate strong men were dangerous. Hershel seemed harmless and considerate, even left the room when it was obvious she wouldn't undress in front of a man. Maybe he could see the resemblance to his younger daughter Beth. Maggie as well, she was always there, defending her, trying to comfort her. No matter if she had put herself in danger following the hunter, her blonde hair and fair skin could've created her a safety net. The silver haired woman seemed desperate as well, but different from the Sheriff. She lost her daughter, obviously. Another chance to weave herself into the group. Yara was much older than the girl, but from her description the blondes shirt must've triggered something in the older woman. And there was Daryl. She wasn't sure what to make of him. Her skills in observation and psychology had saved her a few times in the past, but him, she couldn't really read. There was something dangerous in his demeanor, like a wild animal, unpredictable. And yet, she had trusted him enough to walk the woods for almost 4 hours with him, armed to the teeth. Maybe it was the fact, that he always kept a strict distance between them and never even attempted to touch her, even when she stumbled over a root from time to time except for that one time he tried to keep her from running. Right now he was avoiding to look at her. It might've been guilt or shame. She couldn't quite put it.  
Rick eventually got up from the armchair. "I'll talk to the others. See what we can do to prepare." he said pushing past Daryl and Carol. Yara could see that she wanted to ask more questions in the older woman's eyes when she caught her watching their leader.  
"I don't believe they had her." the blonde said. "She would've been brought to the cell."  
Carol's head sunk, she looked sad.  
"This is good news." Daryl said. "You wouldn't want her there."  
The woman nodded, turning to leave as well. The hunter followed her and Yara could hear her sob in the hallway.  
Maggie sat down in the armchair next to the bed.  
"I'm sorry you had to go through this right after waking up." she said her green eyes dropping.  
"'s okay." the blonde replied quietly. "I've had worse."  
The brunettes mouth formed into a thin line as she placed her hand on the other's arm.  
"Now that this is done..." Hershel sat on a stool on the other side of the bed. "we can talk about what happened last night. You lost consciousness when you arrived. There was a reopened wound on your back. I stitched it up, but it was deep and will take some time to heal. You have two broken ribs as far as I could tell, nothing we can do about that. They need to heal on their own along with some scratches. As for the other thing..." he looked down at his folded hands. "Patricia told me. Not much we can do about that either...I'm just...really sorry."  
Yara nodded softly. She was glad he didn't talk about her other injuries. The scars and what the men had done to her.  
"It's over now." Maggie said. "Whatever happened, we'll make sure it won't ever again. But if you feel like talking about it, just say the word."  
The blonde nodded again. Even if she wanted to talk about it, she couldn't. It was still too painful and every time she even thought about it, she felt her mind slip into dissociation.  
"So, Daryl said your name was Yara and that you're from Boston." Hershel changed the topic sensing her discomfort.  
"Yes."  
"Would you mind...telling us a little about yourself?"  
She thought for a moment. For too long she had to burry herself so deep within, that she had almost forgotten. What was important to know about her? These times nothing seemed to really matter.  
"I..." she started, but lost her train of thought immediately.  
"How old are you?" Maggie asked to make it easier.  
"30."  
"Do...Did you have family?"  
"Yea, my mom and little sister. Don't know if they made it."  
"Do you have any profession that might come in handy?" Hershel chimed in.  
"Not really. I've done a lot of things, learned stuff but nothing really to the point of profession."  
"So you been a drifter?"  
"Dad!" Maggie rebuked.  
Yara laughed weakly. "Well, sort of. Went to college, few semesters in media engineering, changed to psychology. Nothing really seemed right. Spent most of my time exploring and learning things, trying to find myself."  
Hershel nodded. "Sorry for the prejudice...but seeing a woman so heavily tattooed is rather rare..."  
Yara looked down on her inked arms. There were more on her back, stomach and legs and she knew Maggie and Patricia had seen all of them.  
"I have a lot of demons and this was a way to cope and cover the reminders...I guess." she said smoothing her hand over the arrow on her left arm that was covering a thin long scar.  
"Can I ask you something?" the blonde looked at the man first and then switched to his daughter. They nodded.  
"Where am I actually...who are you?"  
"You're on my farm." Hershel answered. "I live here with my daughters Maggie and Beth and Patricia and Jimmy."  
"The others, Rick and his group just came here two days ago. We don't know much about them honestly...Seem like good people though." Maggie added.  
"Rick's son was shot by one of ours. He's recovering next door."  
"Seems like you have your hands full." Yara murmured wiping her face with her hand. "I'm sorry to be a burden."  
"Nonsense." Hershel smiled. "Were would we be, if we didn't help those in need."

It was already dusk when Yara finally dared to get up. Her legs were sore from running and walking and the angry scar on her back pulsed with her heartbeat. She couldn't decide what hurt more.  
Slowly she walked over to the window and peeked outside.  
The group was larger than she had thought. Like ants they were busy rummaging through packs, building a fire pit with large stones, cleaning weapons and building tents around a beat up RV.  
She heard the door click. It was Beth with a shy smile on her face.  
"You're up." she beamed. "Dinner is almost ready if you'd like to join."  
Reluctantly Yara nodded and followed the other blonde outside her room and down the stairs.  
Two tables, fourteen people. She looked around after Beth had shown her a seat on the round table next to Maggie. She took in all the new faces. Don't miss a thing, every detail counts; the voice in the back of her head chanted.  
There was an Asian boy Glenn, Korean most likely, who was obviously smitten with his hosts oldest daughter. Another string to twirl; she thought. Next to Rick sat a woman -Lori, antsy, big shifty eyes. The way she looked at the man Yara had only heard the voice of, something was going on between them. His name was Shane, she learned. He looked at her the same, but with longing mixed in. Yara didn't like him, the way he talked and carried himself. He looked like a liar.  
Next to Lori sat a blonde woman with tan skin. Andrea. She was eyeing Shane as well but every now and then switched to the older man across the table. His name was Dale, just like herself he studied the others. They locked eyes for a moment, both realizing they were assessing the groups and nodding very softly to each other. Between him and Shane sat a bulky black man, shoving mashed potatoes in his mouth. T-Dog. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary with him; Yara thought. Daryl wasn't at any table, she noticed. He was probably still resting upstairs.  
The atmosphere was tens. After a man named Otis came up everyone went silent. Maybe the one who shot Carl, Rick's son. Did they kill him, for injuring the boy? Rick didn't seem like the kind, but his partner Shane was a whole other story.

When they had finished, Carol was walking up the stairs with Yara a tablet in her hand.  
"You bringing this to grumpy smurf?" the blonde asked bobbing her head to the plate.  
The older woman laughed and nodded.  
"Grumpy smurf huh? He's not that bad. People misjudge him."  
"Yea. Hard to read that one." the blonde answered.  
Carol stopped when they reached the top. "Thank you...for telling me...I can only imagine how hard it is to remember..."  
Yara raised a brow. They must have been talking amongst each other about her story. She wasn't angry, it was more than understandable.  
"'s okay. You must be worried sick."  
The silver haired woman nodded. "Daryl went out for her...that's how he found you. I owe him...so much."  
Yara reached out to place her hand on the other's shoulder and squeezed lightly.  
"Tell him ... ah forget it."  
Without another word the two women went in opposite directions.

"How are you feeling." Carol asked as she placed the food on the nightstand.  
"'s good as I look." Daryl answered, pulling the thin blanket over his chest.  
"Brought you some dinner...you must be starvin'." she said with a small smile. After some hesitation she leaned down to give the hunter a peck on the side of his head.  
Irritated and confused he looked up at her. "Watch it...got stitches.." he murmured uncomfortably.  
"You did more for my little girl today, than her own daddy ever did in his whole life..."  
"Doin' nothing the others wouldn't have done..." he said pulling the blanket higher.  
"I know...you're every bit as good as them. Every bit." she said turning to the door. "You even saved that girl today."  
"She alright?" he peeked over his shoulder.  
"Banged up bad, Hershel said. These guys...they must have done horrible things to her..." she brought her hand up to her face. "I really hope they didn't get to my little girl."  
"I'm sure she's still out there. We'll find her soon enough." Daryl tried but only earned himself a sad smile before Carol left and closed the door behind her.  
He couldn't help but feel guilty. He should have found her by now, he was the tracker of the group. Maybe if he hadn't tried to lead them through the cars on the highway this would've never happened. At least he saved one life today. But if that girl was bad news it was on him as well.


	3. Born and raised

**Authors' note:**

 **I do not own The Walking Dead, any of its characters or locations. I only own my generic OC :D And I do not own any of the lyrics at the beginning of the chapters.**

 ** _Trigger warning: Violence, sexual violence, gore, mental illness, marry sue-ness, language and eventual fluff in the future._**

 **Born and raised**

 _All blossoms die in the light of our new culture  
Find your belief in that which cannot be discovered  
Countless lessons lie in every fever dream  
A million voices asking, what does it all mean?  
_

The sun was just peeking over the trees when Yara was up. As she made her way to the porch she inhaled deeply. The fresh morning air felt good but it was a bit chilly in her short sleeved shirt.  
She spotted Rick, leaning on the railing. He looked at her.  
"Mornin' how'r you feeling?" he asked as he stretched.  
"Better." She said, slowly stepping up beside him to look over the tents. Dale was sitting on the RV, looking out to the fields.  
"I'm sorry for pushing yesterday." Rick said, lowering his head. "Jus' need to make sure they're safe."  
Yara nodded. "Understandably...can't trust anyone these days. I should know..." she squinted at the first sun beam hitting her eyes.  
"We're not like that." the Sheriff replied quickly.  
She looked at him sideways. "Not sure I'm ready to believe that yet."  
He raised an inquiring brow at her.  
"Don't get me wrong, I'm very thankful to Daryl for taking me and for Hershel to patch me up.  
But from what I've seen...there's a tension here and I'm not sure I want any of it."  
"Yeah." Rick nodded leaning his elbows back on the banister and looking over his camp. "With Carl injured and Sophia missing..."  
"No, that's not what I mean." She leaned her back on one of the beams to avoid the sun blinding her. "There's distrust in your group, with Hershel's family. I'm alone here and if things go south I'll be on my own."  
He turned his head slightly.  
"I'm of no use to any of you, you don't know me and I don't have much to offer. With the tension here I doubt I can put down roots with any of you." she sighed.  
"For now, you're here and Daryl put his trust in you. As long as you don't try anything that's enough for me."  
Yara looked down on herself. "It might be too much to ask...but would you have something else to wear? I want to get rid of this shirt asap..." she said quietly and uncertainly. Rick gave her a once over. "Why get rid of it?"  
"This shirt...Carol mentioned her daughter wearing something similar...I don't want to..." she trailed off. He smiled bobbing his head. "That's very considerate of you." he said with a hint of suspicion.  
"Don't know...She seems fine one minute and breaks the next. I don't want to be a reason to give her more grief because of a stupid shirt..."  
Rick pushed himself up. "C'mon. We have plenty after scavenging the cars on the highway." he walked around her and down the steps.  
He lead her to the RV. Yara waved at Dale as Rick pulled three almost bursting duffle bags from the baggage compartment.  
"Take whatever you need. The others already sorted through. Might not be your next door Forever 21..."  
"Beggars can't be choosers." She added and slowly lowering herself down. "Thank you." the smile didn't quiet reach her eyes but she meant it.

As she rummaged through the clothes she heard Rick argue with Shane. The latter pointed his knife in her direction. Was probably pissed the leader had offered her their supplies. She decided to ignore the buzz cut man and continued her search. She found three large hoodies, a few plain shirts and some bras. For once she was glad to have a rather ample bust in comparison to the other women around or she might not have been so lucky with those pre raided bags. Then there was a rucksack that seemed to have been left for its bright pink color. It was a good rucksack, sturdy, many pockets and the straps were black. An idea hit her. She went through the bags again and found a torn camouflage jacket. She also took the laces from a pair of thigh high women's boots with high heels that would never be used again. The last item she took was a pair of new looking large cargo pants. She stuffed her loot inside the back pack and cleaned up the mess of clothes to unzip the duffle bags.  
"Can I just put them back?" She called up to Dale, who peered down the RV confused. She pointed at the bags. Dale nodded and smiled. "Come up when you're done." he called and leaned back in his folding chair.  
Yara pushed the ledge shut and climbed up the narrow ladder. Dale was waving a bottle of water not turning to look at her. She walked up to him, lowering herself on the roof under the umbrella.  
"So, what do you think?" he asked looking over the fields.  
Yara laughed quietly. She had known the moment she saw him. He was like her, analyzing, taking in the details to beat life with knowledge.  
"Takes one to know one." she mused moving the bottle to her lips. Dale snorted.  
"Not sure yet. Don't know enough about you people."  
"But you have opinions, no?" he looked at her.  
"Might not be wise to speak them to a possible enemy." she glanced back at him.  
"Smart girl. But humor an old man."  
Yara exhaled slowly and let her eyes wander over the tents.  
"Rick, your leader I assume. He has a good head on his shoulders, loyal, maybe too much sometimes and naive. He trusts that Shane guy, why ever. I don't. He's hiding more than his affair with Lori...had something to do with the death of that guy as well...O...Otis?"  
Dale raised a brow at her.  
"Lori is hiding something too. She looks like someone would slap her over the head any minute."  
"Remarkable." the old man breathed. "You heard that somewhere?"  
"No, just watched at the dinner table yesterday. Suspect everyone knows, even Rick himself."  
"Go on."  
"There's Andrea. She seems unstable. Has a thing for Shane too, which makes me believe she's about to lose it. Clinging to a problematic person who she knows loves someone else and therefore proving her subconsciously that she's just as worthless as she feels."  
"How would you possibly come up with that?" Dale turned to her in his folding chair.  
"Just...basic structure of human behavior, psychological impact on actions and behavior patterns." she shrugged. "Could be wrong though."  
The man laughed and shock his head. "No, no. Spot on. What else you have?"  
"Glenn is doing the dirty with Maggie. Hershel hates it, but not as much as he hates liking Glenn. T-Dog...He's kind, I'd say. Sometimes tries to come off as hard to not give room for attacks. Can't say much more about him. Daryl neither. May be afraid of women, but I'm not sure."  
"What about me?"  
"You..." she smirked and nodded. "You're a special one. You analyze people, nothing escapes your eyes and everything is processed immediately. You see the bigger picture of the bigger picture and each brush stroke at the same time." she took another swing from her bottle before continuing. "This may be due to traumatic experiences during childhood, neglect by your father possibly, which would explain your relationship with Andrea as well. You could also be a shrink. Or both."  
Dale stared at her.  
"You a shrink?" he asked eventually.  
"Recovering PTSD patient and have a few semesters under my belt. But most of my observations come from the need to have control and advantage. 's why I suspect it might be similar with you."  
The older man hummed and took a sip of his own bottle. "Don't even want to know what happens when you get to know everyone better." he snorted.  
Yara laughed softly. "Not much. Usually I won't talk about my discoveries if it's not necessary."  
"You could plant a verbal bomb in here after just half a day. Don't sell yourself short."  
"I don't want that. Manipulating people is vile and I swore myself to never...never again. I would only cause to other people what shaped me and I don't wish that on anyone."  
Dale nodded.  
She wasn't sure why she told him all that. Maybe it was because the old man had the same look in his eyes. Maybe it was because she hadn't really talked freely to anyone in so lang.  
After emptying the water bottle she dragged the back pack on her lap to stuff it in the small pouch on the bags side.  
"You sure you wanna keep that?" Dale asked pointing at the bright pink rucksack. "Makes you biter bait out there."  
"I'll make it work." she smiled. "Speaking of which, do you have a sewing kit down there?"  
Dale nodded. "But I think I saw a sewing machine in the house, old one, without electricity. If you can work it, he might let you use it."

Yara was sitting on the sewing table in the living room. Hershel had given her a large basket with a flower cushion on top. Said it was his wife's and she could use what was inside. She was excited to find different kinds of yarn, some elastic band and push buttons. Just what she needed.  
Beth was watching her from the couch, her head resting on a pillow on the armrest.  
"It's been a while since someone sat there." she said quietly.  
Yara turned around while ripping the arms off the camou jacket.  
"Your mom?" she asked. Beth nodded.  
"I miss my mom. But my little sister more." the older said quietly. "You remind me of her. Is...was your age. Pain in the ass when she was little."  
Beth laughed softly. "You think they made it?"  
"I don't know. Possibly will never know. They would be somewhere in Massachusetts. Too far without planes and with marauders on the streets...can't drive either." she chuckled.  
The two blondes made more small talk as Yara worked on her fabrics. She crafted a cover for the rucksack out of the camou jacket and the legs of the cargo pants, with flaps to reach the pouches and zippers, laced with the leather shoe laces from the boots on the side. She made a belt pouch out of the upper part of the cargo pants and used the zipper from the jacket to be able to close it.  
As she tried it on Beth smiled widely.  
"Awesome. How'd you think of that?" she beamed getting up to admire Yara's handiwork closer up.  
"When I went to college I used to DIY and up cycle a lot of my stuff. Didn't have the money to get myself a fancy purse." she laughed.  
"I can get you a spare belt for that." both blondes jumped in surprise when they saw Rick standing in the doorframe. "Sorry. I was just about to check on Carl." he smiled weakly.  
"That would be...thanks." the older blonde stammered. Beth walked over to him. "I'll take you, need to check the bandages anyways."  
Yara watched the two vanish in the hallway and turned back to the sewing machine. She left the black hoodie as it but cut the bottom of the other two, a grey and a navy blue one. She hated how restricting the thick fabric was and for now it was too hot to wear them normally anyways. She finished with some of the shirts, making them sleeveless and knotting the straps like tank tops.  
When she finished she took the grey crop sweater and a white shirt to the bathroom to get changed. She heard Lori and Rick softly talking in one of the rooms upstairs. Beth was standing outside, nibbling on her thumb. She joined the girl and looked through the crack in the door.  
A boy, Carl, was laying unconscious in a bed. Lori gently brushed some stray hairs out if his face.  
"It's so sad..." Beth murmured. "It was such a stupid accident."  
"Otis?" Yara asked quietly.  
The other blonde nodded. "He was out hunting. Shot right through the buck. Hit the boy. That's how Rick's group came here. Daddy did surgery. Otis was killed when he and Shane went for medical supplies."  
Yara nodded silently. Gotta keep my distance from the buzz cut; she thought.  
"I'm gonna get changed." she mumbled.  
"Daddy said you could stay in that room. You have no tent after all and we won't let you sleep on the porch."  
The older nodded with a smile.

It was just before noon when Yara made her way down the steps of the porch. The group was huddled around a truck and when Rick spotted her, he waved her over. She frowned as she walked up to them. Dale wiggled his brows at her slightly, while Carol just smiled and nodded. Daryl took a glance, grunted shortly and nodded 'hi' as well. The others were eyeing her uncertainly.  
"Shane and Andrea will go through the neighborhood, look inside the houses. Maggie and Glenn are going to the pharmacy, see if there's any more we could use."  
He looked at Yara. "You able to walk?" he asked. She nodded. "Shoulder hurts like a bitch but's ok."  
"Good. You and T-Dog will go back to the highway. See if Sophia came by."  
Shane clicked his tongue.  
"Why me?" the blonde asked, watching the buzz cut policeman carefully.  
"You have no supplies. We can share, but you need to earn your keep." Rick explained. "Someone needs to check for Sophia anyway and you two can scavenge the cars further down while you're at it."  
"She's not getting a gun." Shane huffed folding his arms in front of his chest.  
"Can't shoot anyways." She quickly shot back before an argument would arise.  
"T-Dog will carry. You good with a knife?" Rick asked.  
Yara nodded reluctantly. She wasn't good with any weapon, but a knife was easy enough. She had killed one of the gunmen after all.  
"Good. The rest will help Hershel here on the farm or relax and heal." the Sheriff shot a pointed look at Daryl, who grunted displeased in return.

"Sorry you got stuck with me." Yara said quietly as they drove down the dirt road.  
"'S alright." T-Dog murmured. "Could imagine worse company."  
The blonde chuckled quietly.  
"Yea...wouldn't want to be out there with Shane..." she trailed off. He raised his brow at her.  
"He doesn't like me. Don't really know why, but he would leave me for dead if he had the chance I bet."  
He hummed. "He means well, wants to keep the group save. Newcomers can be dangerous."  
She nodded. "I get that. Still feels overdramatic...I don't know how to use weapons...never even killed a biter. And I'm alone. One wrong move and I'm out on the street."  
"Could be lyin'"  
"True. Still wouldn't do me any good. Can't even drive a car."  
"Really?" he laughed.  
"Really. Didn't have the money for a license and living in the city...wasn't really necessary."  
"Damn girl...that's just sad."  
They rolled up to the end of the jam. T-Dog turned the car, so they could get straight in and drive off if anything happened.  
"We need to walk a bit." he said shouldering his rifle. "Raided most of these for about a mile down."  
Yara nodded and went after him. "If you see anything, holla."

She had found a duffle bag and was stuffing it with everything that seemed remotely useable. Some more clothes, some cans and a pair of doc martens in her size which made her squeal in excitement. She reached a banged up jeep and was about to peek inside the window when something moved. In seconds the walker was hanging out of the window snapping at her.  
When T-Dog heard her short scream he hurried over.  
"Get your knife." He instructed. She was still in shock as she fiddled with the leather sheath.  
"The head! Always get the head. Punch it in the skull."  
"I can't.." the blonde whimpered as she held the hunting knife with both hands.  
"You need to learn. No way around it these days." T-Dog cheered her on.  
She felt sick. It smelled vile and looked even worse. She turned her head to the side and got ready to stab down.  
"You kidding me? You need to look. Miss and be eaten." the black man ranted.  
It was like a blur. The blade hit the skull with a disgusting crunching sound and the corpse stilled.  
T-Dog opened the door, letting the body fall in front of her feet.  
"Search him." he instructed.  
She slowly crouched down, trying to hold in the breakfast she had this morning. With pointed fingers she went through the pockets. She found a pack of cigarettes, a small swizz army knife and a lighter.  
"Good girl." the man chuckled and made his way to another car as she stuffed the items in the belt pouch.  
She climbed inside the car and opened the glove compartment. A handgun and three clips fell out on her lap. For a moment she sat there frozen.  
"T-Dog?" she called softly. He immediately came back.  
"What? Is there another?" he looked around. She pointed to the weapon in her lap without touching it. He shook his head laughing.  
"Finders keepers." he said and turned to leave again.  
"Is it safe? I mean..."  
He sighed and took the weapon, inspecting it, closely.  
"Safety is in." he handed it back to her. Gingerly she placed the gun in her pouch and rummaged through the rest of the items in the glove department. A local map was all she found useful.  
She slipped out and turned to the back door. There were bags and a cooler on the back seat. She smiled. Jackpot.  
With some struggle she hauled the luggage out to search it. Guy must've been a hunter, since one bag was full of ammo and a shotgun. There were a few tubes of arrows as well. Daryl could use these; she thought. The other two bags were full of outdoor clothing and canned and dried food.  
"I think we can leave." she called out to T-Dog, who jogged toward her a full duffle bag of his own on his shoulder.  
"Sweet marry jesus." he breathed. "I'll take you every time from now on. Lucky blonde." he laughed and crouched down to inspect the haul. "Take what you want for yourself first." he instructed. "Rick said so." Yara shock her head. "No. Most of this stuff will be better used by the others."  
"Will take that though." she grabbed a large red case with a white cross on it.  
"You check the trunk yet?" he asked straightening.  
She shook her head no and got up as well. When she peeked through the rear window she noticed a piece of wood. Slender and curved with carvings on it. It was an old fashioned composite bow, made of different colored woods with a black handle in the center. She didn't know how to use it, but for some reason she really wanted to take it.  
Her and T-Dog opened the trunk and she immediately went for the bow. She felt the smooth surface and weighed it in her hands.  
"Know how to use it?" he asked raising a brow.  
"No...but I might learn?" she said uncertainly.  
There was another leather tube with arrows and a set of knifes. T-Dog took the two canisters of fuel that were placed in the back.  
"Damn, what a haul!" he cheered when he looked over the small mountain of bags.  
With some adjusting the two managed to strap the bags around them to avoid making the trip to the car twice.


	4. Bow and arrow

**Author's note:  
** ** **I do not own The Walking Dead, any of its characters or locations. I only own my generic OC :D And I do not own any of the lyrics at the beginning of the chapters.  
**  
Bow and arrow**

 _You're a bow and arrow  
A broken guitar  
While the rain, water washes away who you are  
We go over the mountains and under the stars_

They had been out for a good 3 hours when they arrived back at the farm. Yara saw Glenn and Maggie arguing coming back themselves on their horses. First couples fight; she smirked.  
Rick was stunned when T-Dog and the blonde unloaded the car. Carol and Lori were standing by, observing.  
"I'm telling you man, this girl is a charm!" the black man chanted smiling brightly. "Found that truck with all that good stuff inside."  
Yara reached inside her pouch to hand Rick the gun. He eyed her confused.  
"Found it in the truck." she said motioning for him to take it.  
He shook his head. "We'll have training later, you'll need that...and you'll take what's yours from the bags." he ordered.  
The blonde frowned. Eventually she rummaged through the duffle bag she had filled first. She left some clean underwear, a few cans of soup and a bag of jerky inside.  
"I found some kids clothing." She brought the bundle up to the other two women. "Don't know their sizes...but..." she trailed off handing Lori the clothes. Carol chocked up slightly. "Thank you." she smiled weakly. Yara put the rest of the food and clothing on the pick nick table nearby while T-Doc went through his bags.  
She went on to go through the bags she had found in the truck. The medic kit went on her pile, along with the bow and arrow tube. She cautiously retrieved the shotgun and packs of ammo to place them on the table. Carol helped her carrying the small boxes.  
"It means a lot you thought of my little girl." she said stacking the boxes.  
"Just though...she might want something new to wear when they find her..." Yara murmured. "And kids grow up so fast after all..." She wasn't sure if giving the older woman hope was wrong, as far as she had understood Sophia had been lost in the woods for at least 3 days. It wasn't impossible she was still alive but chances were low. The blonde squeezed the other's shoulder lightly and turned to finish her work.  
Yara decided to take the knife set for herself, along with a thigh strap and two cans of nuts. When she finished placing the remaining items on the table, where Dale was already sorting through, Rick came up and handed her a belt with a holster attached to it.  
"That pouch is a fine idea." He said looking at the small bag. "Think you can make a few more? Might come in handy."  
She looked at him confused. "Sure...I think I saw some more ripped jeans and pants in your stock."  
He smiled and turned to leave again. "So much for being of no use." He glanced back as he walked away. Glenn was walking by, shaking his head and cursing under his breath.  
"You alright?" Dale asked him and waved him over.  
They were talking in hushed tones and Yara decided whatever they were discussing was none of her business. She took her bag, the medic kit, the bow and the arrow tubes and made her way to the house. As she stepped through the tents she heard someone throwing up violently somewhere not so far away. For a moment she pondered to check on them, but she was exhausted and there were enough people to take care of that around.  
After dumping her stuff on the foot of her new bed, she took off the pouch and secured it on the belt Rick had given her. She still didn't really want to touch the gun but slipped it inside the holster and attached the leather sheath with the hunting knife on the other side.  
She looked at herself in the mirror on the small wardrobe. She looked like a survivor now. Just had to learn how.  
She picked up the arrow tubes, that didn't come with her new bow and headed out. Slowly she walked down the hallway to the room were Daryl had been resting last night. When she was about to knock Maggie came up the stairs.  
"He's outside. In his tent I believe." She smiled weakly.  
"You alright?" the blonde asked noticing the others vacant look in her eyes.  
Maggie snapped out of it, gave the older a reassuring smile and said. "Yep, men are dicks." With that she walked to her and Beth's room and closed the door behind her. Yara raised a brow and went down the staircase.

Reluctantly Yara walked up to the tent farthest out. She saw him laying on his cot, flipping through an old book and grunting every now and then. She cleared her throat to get his attention. He glanced up quickly but obviously didn't really recognize her. After a moment he looked up again and rolled over to sit flustered.  
"Found these." She said slipping the tubes from her shoulder. "Thought you might want them."  
The hunter got up and took the three tubes from her. Quickly he unscrewed them and looked inside. "Thanks." He murmured as he took out an arrow with pink fletching.  
After some inspection he handed her one of the tubes back.  
"This one's fer traditional bows. The others are fine." he said.  
She beamed widely clutching the arrows to her chest.  
"Why yer smiling like tha'?" he raised a brow.  
"Oh...I found a bow with all that other stuff."  
"You shoot?"  
"No, but I'll try to learn."  
Daryl shook his head. "Not that easy you know."  
She shrugged. "Can't hurt to try."  
He was silent for a moment, regarding the blonde and eventually tucking the arrows away.  
"Bring it by later." he murmured his back facing her.  
With a frown she looked at him.  
"The bow. Might as well make sure it works."  
"Okay. Thanks." She said quietly not sure what to make of that offer yet.  
"Hey! New girl!" They heard Shane call from a distance. Daryl snorted at the sound.  
Yara rolled her eyes looking in the policeman's direction.  
"Be careful with that one..." the hunter mumbled before passing her and stomping off.  
"Rick said you'd join gun training." Shane said dismay in his voice as Yara approached.  
She nodded slowly. He shook his head looking over at his former partner.  
"You ever held one before?" he eventually asked.  
"No, not before today." She stretched her arm from her body and turned slightly to show off the 9mm on her belt. Shane reached his hand out and motioned she'd give it to him. With some hesitation she unclipped it and handed it over. He inspected it, released the clip and checked the barrel. He handed it back to her and led her to the back of the farm where the others were already putting up the targets.  
She lined up next to Beth and Jimmy.  
"Always handle any gun as if it was loaded. No pointing at anything you wouldn't want dead." Shane called over their heads as he strolled back and forth behind them. "Always keep the safety on and the finger off the trigger until you're ready to shoot." He stepped to the front. "Take up your guns. Hold it with your dominant hand high up and close the other one around the handle for support." He demonstrated with his own handgun.  
"You want to align the sights with your target. When you're ready, squeeze the trigger.  
Everyone was mimicking him as he stepped to the side.  
Yara almost fell back from the sudden backlash of the shot. Her ears rung and her hands hurt.  
Of course she had missed her target by at least 10 inches.  
"Keep your legs apart at hip width and place your dominant foot forward a bit." Rick said quietly as he adjusted her hands. She thanked him before he walked back to his son, correcting some of the others on his way as well. T-Dog stood behind her, telling Jimmy off for using one hand.  
Yara used up one and a half clips before clicking the safety back in. She didn't like the feel of the gun in her hand. She had managed to hit her target a few times but never dead center. She pulled back the rack to check the chamber, just as Shane had instructed and slipped the handgun back in its holster.  
"You done already?" T-Dog asked coming up to her.  
She nodded. "My fingers hurt...and my ears. Don't think I'll become a good shot anytime soon."  
"That's what practice is for." Andrea shot her a cocky smirk.  
"Yeah, well...easy for someone to say who is actually able to hit the target." Yara replied and slowly made her way back to the house. She liked the other blonde less and less.

At the house she took some time to soak her hands in warm water to ease the ache and wash her face. Her shoulder hurt more after the practice session and she examined the stitches in the mirror. The wound was a little red but nothing to be worried about, she decided. Back in her room she unzipped the medic kit and went through its contents. With relief she found a bottle of painkillers and eagerly swallowed two of the white pills. There were bandages of varying sizes, gauze, clippers and medical tape. Even a few small suture kits. She found a bottle of fluid, labeled cortisone, another labeled Bicillin LA and a few epipens. She decided to give Hershel the small glass bottles later. There was more stuffed inside the pockets on the sides but she wasn't in the mood to explore more. She looked out of the window. It must've been around 4. She could feel her stomach rumbling.  
She grabbed the bow, the large quiver and the tube of arrows and made her way downstairs. Patricia was cleaning in the kitchen when Yara entered.  
"Hello dear. Hunger send you in?" she laughed.  
Yara blushed. "Uhm...I..."  
"Just figured. No one comes in here except they're hungry."  
"I was just passing by actually." the blonde lied just as her belly cried starvation.  
"C'mon dear. I just made meat buns from yesterday's scraps. You can take some if you want." the older woman smiled.  
Yara smiled back and remembered the small vials in her pouch. She reached for them to hand them to Patricia.  
"Not sure if it's of any use, but I found these today on the highway." she said sheepishly.  
The older woman beamed. "That's just wonderful. We been going through antibiotics so quickly these days and the cortisone will make a good buffer."  
Yara nodded with a small smile, feeling like she had at least something to trade for the food.  
Patricia handed her a bundle of rolls in a dish cloth, padding her arm lightly.

As she left the house she spotted Daryl at the fire pit reaching for a bottle of water from a cooler that didn't actually chill anything. She waved gingerly making her way to the wooden table at the far side of the camp. She sat down, placing her gear on the table and opened the cloth bundle. The buns were still hot and steam rose from them. Daryl was walking over just as she was about to reach for her afternoon snack.  
"Bring it over I said." he grumbled bobbing his head towards the bow.  
"I wanted to eat first...but now that you're here...want some?" she held a meat bun out for him.  
He grunted and sat himself down across from her, putting two bottles of water down.  
Weird man. She thought. Complains first but brings over beverages. She placed the warm roll in his hand and took one for herself.  
With a grunt he turned to the bow.  
"Recurve composite..." he murmured around the food in his mouth and picked it up with his free hand.  
"Light n' short." he smacked. "Lucky you." he looked at her taking another bite.  
"How so?" the blonde asked munching on her own snack.  
"'s good for carrying around and easy to learn. Might even be powerful enough for small deer."  
He stuffed the rest of his roll in his mouth and snapped the string.  
"Loud though..." he mumbled and turned the weapon around to inspect the arms. With a hum he got up. "Be right back."  
Yara watched him stomping off to his tent and rummaging around. He stuffed something in his pockets and went on to the RV, talking to Dale. The older man looked over to her briefly and nodded. After a moment of searching he handed Daryl something.

With a frown she watched the hunter come back taking the bow and starting to disassemble it with a wrench.  
"Hey, what are you doing." The blonde yelled trying to grab her new weapon.  
He pulled it away, out of her reach. "Need to silence it." he grunted and continued to unscrew the arms. Gently he put the pieces on the table and reached inside his pockets to retrieve something red and fluffy. Yara wrinkled her nose. "Is that..."  
"Squirrel tails and pelt." he said laying the skin on the table and taking out his knife.  
In horror she watched as he cut little squares from the auburn pelt  
"Takes away the vibration." he said putting the fluffy bits inside a hollow space where the arm was attached to the handle. When he finished with the bow he took the string and wrapped the squirrel tail around the separated cords near each end. It looked like two puff balls when he was done.  
When he finished assembling the bow back to its original form he plucked the string again. It really was much quieter, Yara noticed in awe.  
"There'y go." Daryl handed her the weapon and grabbed another meat roll. "You'll need some finger guards or somethin'." He eyed the quiver before dragging it towards him.  
Yara was inspecting the hunters handiwork, even though she had no idea if what he did was actually good or not. The thought of dead squirrels on her bow made her shiver a little. But as things were, she would be eating the little critters sooner or later.  
Daryl was inspecting the leather pouch. He found a zipper on the bottom and opened it letting the contents fall on the table. The blonde put the bow down and picked up a black three fingered glove.  
"This one goes on the other arm." Daryl said tossing a matching leather guard over to her. There were also three spare strings and some screws. The brunette packed the latter back and zipped the bottom close before inspecting the tall tube of the quiver.  
"You have a spare set of arms and six arrows in here. Whoever packed this, was smart." he murmured placing the bag back on the table.  
"So, when you gonna teach me?" Yara asked sweetly fixing the glove on her wrist.  
"Never said I would." Daryl scoffed.  
"Oh c'mon. I gave you food." she nudged the cloth with the remaining meat balls.  
"I made you squirrel balls." he replied taking another roll.  
"Pleeaase? I can help you hunt...sometime...maybe..." she tried.  
He looked at her, pondering or trying to stare her into submission. She wasn't sure.  
"You'll need a boob guard for those." he said dryly pointing at her chest.  
With a blush she looked down on herself and back to him.  
"'scuse me?"  
He took the bow and got up. Taking his stance he drew the string.  
"See...if ya let go'f the string 'll snatch yer hooters right off."  
Yara busted out laughing.  
"You did not just call my breasts hooters mister." she snorted.  
"Wha'? No matter what I call em, they'll be in the way."  
The blonde wiped some tears from her eyes and exhaled slowly.  
"If I find a solution, will you teach me then?" she said trying to stifle more laughter.  
He thought for a moment. Another hunter would take a load off him, but she was a total newbie and until she would be able to earn her keep it would take some time. Hunting a buck would be easier with a partner though. His head was steaming.  
"So?" she asked after a long pause ripping him out of his thoughts.  
"Fine." he spat not even sure if he meant it or not.

Yara rummaged through the clothing bags once again. She found the high leather women's boots she had used the lacing from. She felt the leather, the thickness was near perfect. For a moment she cursed herself for using the string, but just went on with her search. She found some nylon string, probably from a tent no one was using or that didn't even made it back to the camp.  
Satisfied with her haul she went to the house to work on her chest protector.  
She asked Herschel if she could use his library, he nodded yes but took her promise to put everything back where it belonged. With her arm full of books, the boots and the sewing box from Hershel's wife she made her way up to her room.


	5. dear insanity

**Author's note:**  
 **I do not own The Walking Dead, any of its characters or locations. I only own my generic OC :D And I do not own any of the lyrics at the beginning of the chapters.**

 **Dear insanity**

 _On a collision course, to hell we march_ **  
** _We're doomed to this now_ **  
** _Oh the irony_ **  
** _If I'm going down I won't go down alone_ **  
**

Her eyes burned from tiredness. She didn't get much sleep last night but the noise of the group outside and the bright sun made it impossible to sleep in. She was still laying on her bed, reading one of the books she had taken from the library. The book about saddlery was discarded on the small drawers next to the door. She had worked through that one last night to help figure out her little project. Now she was on to the volume about hunting and tracking. Sadly Hershel didn't have one about archery or else she would've crammed that for now. But knowing a bunny from a badger was still useful. Every now and then she scribbled into a small notebook she had bound from paper and thread. Learning a bunch of seemingly useless stuff was her thing and it came in handy now.  
Then and there she remembered promising Rick to make some more of the pouches.  
She snapped the book shut and rolled off the bed. With the intention of breaking it in and a little showing off, she put on the simple leather corset she had crafted. She had tested the string's journey between every step and ended up with the leather garnet reaching from the top of her chest to just over her belly button. She had trimmed the edges with thick yarn to make it more comfortable. Took the longest but paid off in the end.  
Again she was viewing herself in the mirror. It was like in one of these rpg games, as if she had leveled up again with the chest protector, arm guard and glove. She hoped the skills came with the gear but knew better.  
Suddenly she was torn out of her musings when the camp went louder. She heard Shane yelling, Rick too. The barn? Quickly she grabbed her DIY utility belt and wrapped it around her waist as she almost fell down the stairs.  
Maggie was standing on the porch, angry.  
"What's going on?" The blonde asked.  
"Men are dicks." Maggie replied and went inside.  
Yara decided to jog towards the rest of the group. They were fighting over something by the barn.  
"When she see's you, all methed out with your buck knife, geek ears around your neck, she would run in the other direction!" She heard Shane yelling.  
Daryl was furiously swinging his fists at the buzz cut policeman, but Rick held him back. Suddenly everyone was in there, trying to settle the two men down.  
When she arrived, Andrea was shoving the hunter to the side.  
"What's going on?" Yara called as she came to a stop next to him.  
He just roared in Shane's direction in frustration and anger.  
"Let me figure this out." Rick said.  
Yara was confused. When Carol stepped up next to her, brows knitted and tears in her eyes, the blonde put her hands on the older woman's shoulders.  
"Carol, what's going on? Is it Sophia?" She asked worried. The silver haired woman didn't reply but hung her head low and started to cry.  
"Barn's full of walkers." Daryl grunted not looking at them.  
Yara's stomach clenched painfully as she wrapped the older woman in her arms. She wasn't able to follow the argument the others were having. There were walkers in the barn, flesh eating monsters just around their sleeping space. She remembered the one corpse she had to off on the highway and started shaking.  
The fighting men must have excited the biters for food, they were suddenly grabbing and groaning at the doors loudly. Panic rose and Yara decided to lead Carol away from the threat. The others were following suit, not taking their eyes off the shaking doors.

Yara and Carol were sitting at the well near the stables. She had tried to comfort the older woman, Shane's words had hit her hard. She said she knew her little girl was most likely dead already, but she wouldn't lose hope until she saw a body. Daryl was stomping by, into the stables.  
"He's gonna go out there again?" the blonde mused before the other woman jumped up and went after him.  
Yara could hear them talk quietly, Daryl's voice went up a few times before he came out huffing.  
"Stupid bitch." she heard him curse under his breath.  
The blonde got angry at this and got up to follow him. When she had caught up she shoved his shoulder roughly.  
"What?!" he whirled around fists ready.  
"You apologize to Carol." the blonde growled.  
"Or wha'?" he came up close to her trying to intimidate her. For some reason she knew he wouldn't touch her. If it was Shane she would've fainted or stabbed him with a knife. But Daryl wouldn't hurt her, she knew.  
"You're being an asshole." she stabbed him with her finger. "You care for her and the girl and you're being insecure about it...taking it out on her."  
"Fuck you!" he spat almost headbutting her.  
"No Daryl, fuck you." She shoved him getting more and more pissed off. "She's hurting and she doesn't want you to put yourself in danger for her. Stupid douche bag should be grateful someone cares for you! At least you're not alone out here." She shoved him some more rambling close to tears. She was jealous. No one really cared for her, no one really knew her and Daryl pushed everything away that meant sane survival. All the anger that had stored up inside her unloaded on the hunter as she hit him with her fists as hard as she could.  
"Stop it! STOP IT!" he yelled at her, halfheartedly trying to catch her wrists.  
"You stop it! Fucking moron!" She shoved him one last time before storming off towards the house.  
He knew she was right. He knew he was an idiot, but it took him a moment to admit it to himself. He turned to see Carol standing at the well, wrapping her arms around her midsection.

As Yara entered the house Maggie was in front of her. Both looked at each other, both upset and not knowing what to do with it.  
"Wanna chop some wood?" the brunette offered. Yara laughed nodding.  
They were hacking away at the trunks, blowing off steam.  
"He had to tell." Maggie snarled. "Dad is furious."  
"About the barn?" the blonde asked propping up another piece of wood.  
"Yea..." the other replied swinging the axe down.  
"Quite the shocker..."  
"We just...we can't let go of them. It's our mom...and brother...and friends..." Maggie wiped her nose with the back of her hand. "They're dangerous...but they're also our family."  
"Honestly...I don't know what I would've done if it was mine...I didn't come across the dead really often in the past. I killed one, my first, yesterday. And even though I didn't know the man...it was awful."  
Maggie nodded silently.  
The progress was slow, they had only made a small pile of firewood when Yara noticed movement at the barn.  
"Maggie." she hissed, trying to get the other's attention.  
They watched as the group was jogging towards the wooden building. For a moment they didn't know what to do, but when the brunette realized they all had weapons at the ready she started to run.  
Shane was just hacking away at the locks when they reached the scene. Maggie immediately went to her father holding him steady.  
"This is insane..." Yara mumbled when she noticed the two walkers laying on the ground, shot. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. People were screaming, pleading and then the first shot fell.  
Beth was sobbing held by Patricia. Maggie cried as well, holding her father who had collapsed on the ground. One after the other fell like paper figures. And then it was silent.  
Yara heard Carol call out. A hot lump formed in her throat as she looked to the barn door. It was Sophia, scrambling over the other dead. No one dared to move except for Daryl who grabbed Carol and held her close.  
Yara felt her legs give in and with a thud she fell on her knees. It was gruesome. The cries and sobs.  
Another shot was fired and the girl collapsed. She didn't see who it was, everything was blurry.  
The only thing she was able to hear was her breath and heartbeat.  
Beth was stumbling towards the corpses. There was commotion and screams. Yara couldn't process anything happening around her.  
A pair of hands grabbed her shoulders and helped her up. It was Dale.  
"Come on, let's get you out of here." he said quietly.  
She couldn't answer. She had seen and experienced horrible things in the past and this was another cross on her list. Carl was walking beside her, his face was blank.

Dale had sat her down on the porch and went off to help the others with the bodies. Slowly her head cleared a little and she found the strength to process what had happened. Even though she had been there for only almost 2 days the Greene family had grown on her. The cries of the two daughters haunted her, just as Carol's. Things seemed to move slowly now that the world fell apart and she felt like she had been there for far longer.  
Rick passed her, possibly to check on his boy and talk to Hershel. When he saw her curled up in the far corner against the banister, he traced back and came her way.  
"You alright?" he asked crouching down beside her.  
She shook her head no. "What Shane did..." she murmured weakly.  
Rick wiped his hand over his face. "Yeah...hope we can come back from that..." then he remembered what the blond had said to him the other day.  
"Don't you worry. Whatever happens, you have a place with us." He put his hand on her shoulder. "Saw you with Daryl yesterday. Would do him good to have an apprentice." he chuckled at his own idea. "And Carol, she likes you. So do Dale, T-Dog and I. You did good with your haul, helped us a lot." he said as if to ensure her she was useful for the group.  
"I'll try to talk to Hershel about staying here..." he got up.

After the service for the deceased Yara went to her room. She felt weak, the grief and tense atmosphere made it even worse. Her shoulder was pulsing something awful and she decided to lay down for a while. It didn't take long for her to be torn out of her slumber. She heard footsteps and loud voices. As she exited the door she saw Maggie hurrying from the bathroom with a bowl of water towards her and Beth's room. She spotted Lori about to go down the stairs.  
"What's going on?" the blonde asked.  
"Beth collapsed. We need to get Hershel..." the brunette explained hastily and jogged down the stairs.  
Yara headed for the other side of the hallway. Maggie was just placing a wet towel on her sister's forehead.  
"Anything I can do?" the blonde asked putting her hand on the other's shoulder.  
"I don't know what happened...she was just gone..." Maggie sniffled quietly.  
"She's in shock...what happened today...it was too much." she got down on her knees next to the chair the brunette was sitting in.  
"It's called dissociation. When something is too traumatic, the mind splits from the body to protect the person from breaking."  
"Happened to you?" Maggie glanced over.  
"Multiple times, but not like this and mostly before...I had professional help. They gave me sedatives and benzos..." She looked up at Patricia hopefully, who just shook her head no.  
"We have sedatives but without proper dosing we could kill her..." the older said looking down.  
"How about lorazepam?"  
Patricia shook her head no again.  
Yara got up. "I'm gonna ask around. Must be some psychos around."  
"Daryl has some stuff...Merle's stash he said..." Glenn piped up. She hadn't even noticed the Korean standing at the window.  
"Figures..." she scoffed and took off.

Yara found the hunter carving a stick with his knife, sitting against an old fireplace that was about to crumble just as the house it had belonged to did a long time ago.  
"Hey douche bag." the blonde scoffed and kicked his boot lightly. The anger she had unloaded on him earlier still lingered a bit.  
"Whad'ya want..." it wasn't so much a question as it was something he got used to greet people with.  
"Glenn said you had a stash of drugs around."  
He squinted at her "You ain't gon get high on my tab snowflakes." he snarled.  
"It's not for me." She said quietly. "You have any benzos?"  
"You want the good shit huh...?" he snorted.  
"Beth collapsed..."  
"Yeahyeah I heard, whatever.."  
"We could use some lorazepam to get her out of her head."  
He grunted. "Left bag on the bike...don't touch the other stuff, I'll know."  
She turned to leave but lingered for a moment.  
"Why are you such a dick sometimes..." she murmured.  
"Better a dick than a pussy..."  
"I mean it." She turned around to look at him. "And I meant what I said earlier. Caring isn't weakness."  
"Tell that to the hole in my side...tell that to Carl who got shot looking for that girl..."  
"I'd be dead or worse if you hadn't been out there."  
"So? What good is that to me?" he stabbed at a bushel of grass with his sharp stick.  
"You lash out...because you're scared...and you think you're alone..."  
"Shut up."  
"Probably because no one was ever really there for you...things have changed. Without each other, we're all dead."  
"Stop shrinking me."  
"Sorry...it's my thing. You have people here, who are thankful for the things you've done. You don't need to pay them back but you should know."  
"Fuck off already." he mumbled. Yara saw in his face and heard in his voice that her words had struck a chord.  
She turned one last time, mumbled a 'thanks for the drugs' and headed to the bike that leaned against the RV. She pulled out the bag and noticed the blue crystals at the bottom. For a moment she glared at the bag, before retrieving the orange bottles. 'Vicodin', 'Valium' and there it was 'Lorazepam'. Whoever this Merle person was, he had a serious problem. She pondered on just pouring the Meth out and stomping it into the dirt, but chances were too high Carl or someone else would find it there.  
After putting everything back she hurried to the house.

 **Note: I'm not a doctor, do not play around with Benzodiazepines, they are highly addictive and can cause a lot of mental and health problems in the wrong hands. If you or someone you know falls into a catatonic state, call an ambulance. Do not administer drugs yourself!**


	6. Coming down

**Author's note:  
I do not own The Walking Dead, any of its characters or locations. I only own my generic OC :D And I do not own any of the lyrics at the beginning of the chapters.  
Yeah, technically Beth doesn't break until later...but it fit the story better ;)  
**

 **Coming down**

 _It's caving in around me  
What I thought was solid ground  
I tried to look the other way  
But I couldn't turn around  
It's OK for you to hate me  
For all the things I've done  
_

She hadn't slept much. Yesterday had been too much and for hours she had laid awake turning the events over in her head. Sometime after midnight she went out and checked on Beth. Maggie had been by her side all night.  
She was told Lori had tried to go after Rick and Glenn and was attacked, but was back safe.  
Yara made her way down and out. Dale was sitting atop the RV, while Lori and Carol hung wet clothes to dry. T-Dog, Carl and Daryl were sitting in the folding chairs around the fire pit, eating scrambled eggs.  
"Need help?" she joined the other two women.  
"Sure." Carol smiled.  
They watched Shane and Andrea pack the car. Dale was climbing down the RV to talk to the tan blonde and they argued quietly.  
Yara frowned as T-Dog and Daryl joined Shane by the car. They would go out to look for the others she assumed. Just then the a red station wagon came down the dirt road.  
The women and Carl joined to others to welcome Rick, Glenn and Hershel back.  
"Patricia, prepare the shed for surgery." the old man called as he bolted out of the car. The group was exchanging worried looks. Rick and Glenn seemed fine, so what was going on?  
"Who's that?" T-Dog pointed a finger to the back window of the car. Everyone's heads turned.  
Yara's blood froze.  
"That's Randal." Glenn said.  
The shirt she was holding slowly slid from her fingers. She felt her chest constrict, making it hard to breathe. Carol had her hand on the blonde's shoulder and asked something. She couldn't hear it. Slowly she stepped back, almost losing her footing. Rick looked at her with knitted brows.  
"Fuck is going on." Daryl looked around in confusion.  
"He's from a group...from Phillie..." The Sheriff said lowly.  
With that everything went dark. Yara felt hands grabbing for her but the lights were out. Nothing reached her anymore. No sound, no air, nothing. They were here. She'd rather die than go back to that. 

As the fog started to fade, she could hear hushed voices.  
"Imma kill him." she heard someone hiss.  
"He's just a boy...couldn't leave him there..."  
"What do we do with him?" a female voice asked.  
"Kill him. Right'ere. Ya'll heard what they're capable of."  
"Not after I managed to repair his calf muscle as best as I can." It was Hershel, she could recognize him now.  
"Who knows why your girlfriend fainted...could be anything..." Shane said mockingly. "But I'm with you about not letting him stay."  
Yara heard rustling and curses. She slowly opened her eyes. Someone was hovering over her.  
"Shh. Easy." She said while the others were still arguing.  
"Mha mh..." the blonde tried but her mouth felt heavy. "ma go..." she managed.  
"You collapsed. Patricia gave you one of the pills you found yesterday." Carol explained stroking her hand over the other's forehead.  
"Go...nuh safe..." The blonde tried to struggle up. In a flash a set of strong hands was on her shoulders to hold her down. The medication didn't do much to soothe the panic she was experiencing. Hands on her. Randall. The Living. She fought hard against the restrictions. Everything was blurry. "I need to go! Not going back there!" She snarled trying to roll off the couch.  
"Hold her, she has a panic attack." Hershel hissed. Yara felt a pair of arms wrap around her like a vice and something heavy on her legs. She couldn't breathe. Everything was wrong. She wanted to go, die, just be somewhere else.  
"'s okay. Yer safe." she heard a voice near her ear whisper. The weight on her legs lifted and hands were on her cheeks.  
"Look at me. It's alright." It was Carol.  
"Calm down. Nothing's gonna happen." the older chanted over and over again.  
"Great...another one looses it..." Shane murmured.  
With a slap Maggie told him to shut up angrily.  
"Ya'll go and play asylum. Gonna get those lunatics some flowers." he gnarled and stormed off.  
The ranting and crying in Yara's head started to fade. She recognized the worried grey eyes in front of her. Carol was gently stroking her cheeks. She then realized it wasn't the older woman holding her tight. She felt something poke her head, a stubbly chin.  
"I think you can let go now." Carol said quietly. Yara recognized the grunt from the other person, it was Daryl.  
Her body felt like it was melting when the pressure went away. She knew what had happened, she knew it was over for now.  
"nother pill." she managed.  
"I don't think that's wise." Hershel said.  
"nother...took em before..." she wiped her hand over her face. It was all wet from snot and tears.  
"What happened." Rick was standing behind the couch looking at her, he knew but he needed confirmation.  
"Pill...then talk..." As she said it Hershel was back with the orange bottle and a glass of water. 

It took a moment before Yara was able to calm herself to a point where she was able to explain.  
"He was there. Took watch a few times." she said quietly.  
"Did he do anything to you?" Rick urged.  
"Don't know...don't think so. I saw his face a few times." She took another sip of water. "But if he's here, the other's will be too."  
"They left him for dead, they won't come for him." The Sheriff insisted.  
She looked up at him, Andrea was behind him, worry in her eyes to her left was Dale his mouth a thin line.  
"Gotta kill 'im." Daryl said for the third time leaning against the windowsill. He couldn't look at her.  
"If they come...we'll all be done for." Yara said looking Rick straight in the eyes. "And I sure as hell won't go back there..."  
Rick combed his fingers back through his hair and sighed in desperation.  
"You won't." Carol shot their leader an uncertain look. "None of us will." 

Yara had climbed in one of the tall trees on the farm after a short nap. She couldn't sleep anyways and it was just past 4. She looked out on the fields. Nothing. She felt nothing. The attack had drained her. It was good though, the only way to work through trauma was relive it in a safe environment and she was as safe as it gets with corpses roaming the land. Still, it felt like something was missing. She knew it was normal but that didn't make it any less frightening. Fear had brought her this far and letting go of it was the hard part. She took one of the cigarettes she had found on the highway out of her pouch and lit it. It had been a while but she welcomed the sting of the smoke in her lungs.  
The others kept their distance, not sure how to interact with her. She was glad, she didn't really yearn for company right now. Randal would be locked up for some time Hershel had said, until then they would decide what to do with him. She didn't want to wish him dead but it would be the only way to bring her peace for now.  
For another hour she sat there on the thick branch, leaned against the tree trunk, looking out on the fields. She heard footsteps but couldn't find the will to turn her head, instead she took another drag from her third cigarette that day.  
"Didn't take ya for a smoker." Daryl said. She didn't answer, no energy for banter.  
"Can I borrow one?" he tried again. Without moving too much she tossed the pack down.  
For a few minutes it was silent. Every now and then she heard the quiet sizzle of his cigarette.  
"Wanna try that bow now?" he asked eventually. Yara turned her head lazily and looked at him at last. The branch wasn't that high up and his head came up to her hip. He had her bow and the quiver strapped to his back. Asshole; went through her stuff.  
"What're you doing?" she asked instead if starting an argument.  
He glanced at her quickly before taking another drag.  
"Begged me tah' teach ya...now yer complaining?"  
"'s not what I mean. Why...now?" she sighed.  
Daryl nervously stepped from one foot to the other.  
"Little blonde tried to opt out earlier." he murmured. For a moment Yara's attention peaked but she was too empty to properly react.  
"Carol send you to babysit?"  
He didn't answer.  
"Poor you, gotta watch over the psycho bitch in the tree." she sighed and leaned her head back against the rough bark.  
"No worries." she rolled up her left sleeve and let her arm dangle down, turned out. "Been there done that...not my thing..." she said evenly.  
Daryl looked at her confused and then at her arm. He noticed a long thin line that was covered by an arrow, reaching from her wrist almost up to the crook of her arm.  
He didn't know how to react. He wanted to scold her, but what good would that do. He wanted to leave and not deal with this shit, but somehow he couldn't.  
"She make it?" Yara asked eventually, pulling her arm back up and letting it rest on her stomach.  
He grunted yes.  
"Good. Stupid girl. Gonna slap her around some when I'm back..." She knew it was good the way it went. At least Beth knew she wanted to live and would fight for it from now on.  
"So yer comin' or what?" he said putting the cigarette out on the bottom of his boot and flipping it somewhere.  
Yara groaned. "I'm fine. You do you..."  
He grunted in annoyance and grabbed her arm, fed up with her moping. He pulled her down over his free shoulder, too quick for her to fend him off.  
"Dude, what the fuck?!" she snarled propping herself up on his back.  
He bumped his shoulder to get a better balance and stomped towards the back of the house. The other's were slowly getting up from their seats, watching the scene confused.  
"Group's getting antsy...waiting fer ya ta dangle from the tree...fucking annoying." He said knowing it wasn't entirely true. He didn't want to see another member of the group leave, especially in that way.  
"So kidnapping's your choice of action yea?" she grunted.  
"Yer not a kid, much too heavy...n' moping in that tree won't do anyone any good."  
He put her down and slammed the bow in her hands.  
"Make yerself useful and learn tah' hunt." his jaw slightly moved from side to side uncertainly if he had taken it too far.  
Yara was glaring daggers at him and was just about to throw the bow down and stomp off. But the way he looked at her made her reconsider. He wanted to help, in his angry insecure way.  
"Fine." she ground out and yanked one of the arrows out of the quiver. Without really knowing how it worked she intuitively loaded the arrow, drew back the string and let it fly. It missed the target by at least 2 feet and landed limply in the grass.  
"Yer done?" Daryl looked at her with a raised brow.  
She dropped the bow exhaling slowly. It felt better than holding a gun, more natural.  
"Stance first. Turn sideways, front food at an angle. Like tha'." He demonstrated and glanced back.  
"Feed farther apart...good." He turned, fetched an arrow and stepped next to her.  
"Yer grip is fine fer now." he gave her the projectile.  
"Yer nock it on the dropped bow, draw the string while lifting."  
She obliged.  
"Jus' like tha'. Target aligns with the arrow's back, pinch yer shoulder blades together, breathe out and leggo."  
As her fingers relaxed the projectile hissed through the air and met the target with a thunk. Or at least the outer edge. Daryl grunted pleased but stayed away from actually complimenting her.  
"Again." He handed her another arrow.  
This time he corrected her arms. The projectile flew and hit a bit more to the middle but on the other side.  
"Now. Put on the quiver. 'm not yer caddie." he said handing her the leather bag. 

"Aw look at those two." T-Dog whistled stepping up next to Rick who was watching the archery training with Carl.  
"'s good. He has a new project and people can stop worrying about her sitting up in that tree." the Sheriff said with a chuckle.  
"Yer not even gonna hit a moose from 5 feet away like tha'!" they heard Daryl.  
"Gonna hit you, if you don't back off, jerk." Yara snarled shoving the hunter with her elbow.  
"Why are they fighting again, dad?" Carl looked up.  
"'s called foreplay." T-Dog barked out laughing and earned himself a stern look from Rick.  
"What's foreplay?"  
"Carl! They're just making fun. You know how Daryl can be." the Sheriff rubbed his brow. "And don't you repeat to your mom what T-Dog said."  
The boy nodded confused. 

"You do it better then." Yara huffed shoving the bow towards Daryl. He snorted, grabbed the bow and yanked an arrow from the Quiver. In one smooth stroke he nocked the projectile, drew the string and let it fly. Bullseye.  
"There." he smirked.  
She jerked her weapon out of his hands with an annoyed grunt and mimicked his shot. The smirk vanished when the arrow stuck just an inch to the right from his.  
"Pft...pure luck." he murmured with a hint of pride in his voice. He had taught her after all.  
"Will take some time before ya can hunt though..." Daryl started to walk away.  
She drew another arrow, shot and missed the outer ring.  
"See?" He glanced back at her. "Now go, collect tha strays. 's almost dinner time."  
He boxed a chuckling T-Dog in the shoulder as he passed him by.  
When she finished picking up the arrows she also made her way back to the house.  
"I see you found a mentor." Rick smiled and patted her shoulder.  
"Can I try sometime?" Carl eyed the bow excitedly.  
"If you're parents and uncle Daryl agree...?" Yara smiled.  
Rick laughed loudly. "Don't let him hear that." he turned to his son. "You heal up first kiddo." 

Yara was nervously wringing her hands as she stood in front of Beth's door. Now that her head cooled down, or rather the blood was flowing warm in her veins she didn't know how to react. All she knew was, she wanted to make sure herself that the small blonde was fine.  
The moment she mustered up the strength to knock the door opened. Maggie's green eyes flickered up.  
"Yara." she exclaimed quietly. "Are you feeling better?"  
She had spent dinner in a corner with the others outside and hadn't seen the Greene Family since her melt down.  
"Yeah. Better now. How's she?"  
"She's asleep." Maggie almost whispered and closed the door behind her. "She'll be fine. Daddy stitched her up and I think she's not gonna try anything again."  
The blonde nodded. "Good." unconsciously she reached for her left arm.  
"You went through this as well, haven't you?" Maggie asked carefully.  
The other nodded. "Long time ago." 


End file.
